Harry Potter and the Four Lights
by K. Ra
Summary: [Oop Spoilers] In Harry's 6th Year, it seems a lot of Changes are taking place, and he begins to doubt about everything he's ever been told. One thing is for sure though - the Boundaries must fall or Hogworts really is doomed. [Lots of Couples ^.^]
1. The Beginning of Change

Harry Potter and the Four Lights  
Chapter 1: Opposites Begin  
  
A/N: Order of the Phoenix spoilers. HP/CC, HP/OC, DM/OC, DM/PP, DM/HG, RW/HG  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Life at Privet Drive was almost the opposite of what it was in the previous year.  
  
Last year, the sun had been burning hot for weeks - leaving most of Privet Drive scorched and dried out with the residents left to sort out the matters themselves. However, this year it was raining hard, and had been doing so for several days and the weatherman had predicted it would be doing so for several more days.and the weather wasn't the only thing to change, either.  
  
For you see, in house number four, Privet Drive - some major changes had taken place, all of them involving a certain black-haired young man, who was sitting on the front steps of the porch and watching the rain fall down.  
  
His name was Harry Potter, and his clothes were one of the changes. The year before they had been scruffy and ill-looking, and the reason for many of the giggles amongst the neighborhood but now they were stylish and new, even featuring some American-brand name trainers..and Harry knew the reason for this.  
  
The year before, his Uncle and Aunt who took care of him, had been expressively warned that if he was not treated right than there would be some 'visits' to be paid to them, and by some very unwelcome company too.  
  
So in response to that, Harry was now being spoiled quite properly although he still saw the look of hatred and disgust in his Aunt and Uncle's eyes, and the fear in his cousin, Dudley's - he was pretty much living the good life now - And he couldn't have hated it more.  
  
He suddenly realized how Dudley had turned out so awful - with those two fussing over them all the time, how could you not be? It was driving him up the wall.their fake smiles, their cheerful exterior, Uncle Vernon trying to 'pal' with him, and generally being a complete and utter bore.  
  
However, what he did enjoy, was the constant communication he now had with the wizarding world - at times he even forgot he was staying with non- magical folks. Hermione now called him regularly on the telephone, he sent and received new letters weekly, and was learning a lot about the wizarding world in general thanks to the - newly non censored - issues of the Daily Prophet.  
  
But despite the newfound feeling of belonging, every now and then, he found himself falling into a depression at the memories from last year when he had.had.lost someone dear to him. Which is exactly what he was thinking about as he stared into the rain silently - an equally torrential feeling pouring inside of him.  
  
It still felt as raw as it did when it first happened, when he began to think of it - and he found himself having nightmares about it regularly.as well as.other nightmares. Nightmares because the visions had not stopped when his 'special classes' from the year before did - in fact, they had become even worse, but now.now it seemed the norm.  
  
He was quite used to the pain in his scar, he was quite used to seeing his godfather falling into death itself, he was quite used to hearing a cold laughter in his mind and he was quite fed up with it - to tell the truth.  
  
His mind drifted at that moment from thoughts of Sirus, to thoughts of Dumbledore - who had promised to teach him in Occlumency this August, when Harry would be returning to the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters, and he was looking forward to going there.even though being at that house would be.painful, it was better then her-  
  
"Here's the almost-birthday boy!" A gruff voice said cheerfully, and Harry turned his eye up slowly to peer through his glasses at his forcibly cheerful Uncle stood hovering above him, one of his work friends standing beside him staring at Harry. Uncle Vernon pasted on a smile that looked rather.wrong on his pudgy face, "Getting excited boy?"  
  
"No." Harry said shortly, looking up to see his uncle's response - besides his smile becoming a little more forced (if it was even possible), all Uncle Vernon did was clap his hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Ah, teens today.huh Marv? We weren't like that - were we, polite and reasonable we were."  
  
Harry knew that at that moment it would be the perfect time to mention that Michael Herrin's father had come over earlier that afternoon to complain that Dudley was bullying their son, but he thought the better of it - and instead he stared down 'Marv', and succeeded in making him shift uncomfortably and mutter a hushed; "Where's Dudley?"  
  
Uncle Vernon's smile faltered, but then it was back on. "Out with some friends."  
  
Harry could barely hide a smug smile, as of recently Dudley had discovered a new interest other then beating children up, and that was girls. Every night it seemed he was out cavorting with some new huge busted broad, one that Aunt Petunia wrinkled her nose up at and complained about as soon as the doors closed. Yet either way, she couldn't do anything to stop it from happening - not without hurting Duddykin's feelings.  
  
Marv nodded understandably; "Anyway, let's go now."  
  
Uncle Vernon put up a hand, and stopped Marv. His eyes suddenly going back to their old hard look as he glared Harry up and down, "Boy.I mean.Harry, you've written that." He saw Marv looking curiously, and his tone changed as well as his expression - becoming slightly more panicked, "List.haven't you?"  
  
His eyes however, had the message clear in them - 'Have you written to those freak-friend of yours so they won't come here?!'  
  
Harry could have laughed out loud at that, it was the only real worry that had come out of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's mouth these days. 'Have you written yet?' 'When are you going to write?' 'Don't forget to mail that letter.' 'Have you any mail this morning, Harry?' It was all the same - they were so terrified of Harry's friends, it was almost laughable.  
  
Of course he had remembered to write to them all, he could remember it now. He had been commenting on some disappearances he had seen on the Muggle news last Sunday night, he had wanted to know if there were any connections but as he found in the letter he got back on Tuesday, they were nothing but ordinary Muggle-disappearances.  
  
He blinked slowly, his mind working out the details; Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday. Sunday. Monday.Monday, today was Monday.  
  
More then a week after his last letter.  
  
His mouth formed a little nervous 'O' shape of surprise, as he suddenly got a vision of Mad-Eye Moody pacing back and forth in the den on the spot, his wooden leg clunking as he went along. Tonks would be nervously rattling her foot and forcing it to change shape in her nervousness, and Mrs. Weasley - oh she'd worry.they would all worry.  
  
As if watching in some video camera, he recalled late last year - when Mad- Eye Moddy had turned from Uncle Vernon back to Harry, his eye had been straight on - not twitching at all..  
  
'Potter, give us a shout if you need us. If we don't hear from you in three days in a row, we'll send someone along.'  
  
Three days in a row.  
  
Send someone along.  
  
Three days in a row.  
  
Send someone along.  
  
Harry swallowed deeply to himself, and whispered - ever so softly - "Bloody Hell." 


	2. St Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably C...

 IChapter 2: St Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.

"Well boy?" Uncle Vernon hissed, his beefy face turning an extremely unattractive shade of red; "Have you sent it yet?"

Harry's own face had gone unusually pale at that moment, and he was staring at the cobblestone walk intently. His mind was buzzing at all the possibilities of what could happen, and he was quite aware that none of them were anything near good. In fact, nearly all of them ended up with a strange group of people buzzing around his living room.

"BOY?!" At this point, Uncle Vernon's head looked like it was on the verge of exploding.

Harry glanced up at him, now would be the perfect time to get a rise out of him, but then again – he would have to send a letter **_now_** to even possibly get it their in time. And if he told Uncle Vernon – he'd be screaming at him for a day or so, and he wouldn't have time.

So he glanced up, and said in a hushed voice; "Yeah, yeah I have."

Uncle Vernon stared at him for a moment as if challenging him. Harry looked up at him defiantly – meeting his gaze as best he could. In a clearer, more firm voice he said again; "Yeah, I have."

They remained that way for a while, Harry looking up at him defiantly and Uncle Vernon looking fearful and questioning; and they probably would have continued to do so – except there came a defiant roar from up and down the street – the roar of a motorbike – more specifically, the motorbike that belonged to Harry's gigantic cousin, Dudley.

Uncle Vernon turned around at the sound, just in time to see Dudley whizzing past. In that time, Harry half jumped up (knocking into 'Marv' in the process) and ran up the stairs to his bedroom.

However, to his horror – as he went sliding into his bedroom, he remembered something – Hedwig was out hunting for the night. Her cage stood empty beside the clear window, the newspaper lining rustling in the breeze – as Harry's heart fell to the pit of his stomach.

"No…" He whispered weakly – normally, he wouldn't have minded seeing the members of the Order, but he was afraid…well, he wasn't sure what he was afraid of. It's not as if he **_cared _**how the Dursley's reputation withstand the appearance or anything – in fact, he was sure it would be pretty amusing to see Uncle Vernon staring in horror as a green haired Tonks came running up the walkway…but he also had the feeling that if he slipped up this time, they would never shake the feeling of fear they had for him and would strive to protect him (and baby him) more then ever.

He was about to basically crumple in an exasperated heap, when something like a light bulb dimmed on in his head – Ms. Figg. 

Ms. Figg was his slightly batty next-door neighbor, who smelt vaguely of cats. Last year, however, he had learned that she wasn't just batty – she was a Squib. A Squib, of course, was a person born into a wizarding family without any magic. But unlike Muggles, they have knowledge of the magical world…and it was just Harry's luck that this particular Squib, just happened to be in close contact with the Order of the Phoenix.

As quickly, if not quicker, as he had run into the room, he turned around – and dashed out – his hair flying into his face as he did so, unfortunately as he was half-blinded by his hair, he didn't see where he was running when he was knocked off his feet when he ran into something very large 

In fact, as he looked up, he realized it wasn't much different from a wall – in fact it was his older cousin, Dudley. Dudley, was now larger then ever, and he spent most of his time making extraordinary ugly faces in the mirror and flexing his muscles and patting his stomach, probably wondering how he would try and impress the next slut that went cozying up to him. 

And it was that large stomach that Dudley was always patting that Harry had just ran into. Not even bothering to brush himself off and straighten himself out, Harry leapt back to his feet ready to run again when he saw that Dudley had not moved. Instead, Dudley was staring fearful at Harry, which actually wasn't very new, but usually Harry did something to provoke that feeling first. 

Harry hesitated for a moment, before he growled; "Move Dudley."

Dudley looked as if he were going to ablige for a moment, but he hesitated nervously and then he moved his hands behind his back – as if protecting something back there. His fat face look torn for a moment, and he swallowed hard and shook his head meekly.

"Dudley, don't be a prick– MOVE, I've got to go down NOW!" Harry snapped, his hand flexing angrily. 

"D, you let him talk to you like that…?" A soft voice purred from behind Dudley, who tensed visibly at the sound.  It was only a matter of seconds before the owner of the voice peeked from over Dudley's massive shoulder. It was a thin relatively ugly looking girl, who reminded Harry strongly of Aunt Petunia – and the way she was resting a sharp-nailed hand on Dudley's shoulder, she was his newest girlfriend.

Harry stopped, wondering how 'Big D' would approach this situation.  His face went a funny puce-color, and he looked down – not meeting Harry's eyes – as he squeaked out, "Yeah, well, he's… my cousin…"

She scowled over at Harry, as if looking at a particularly annoying child. Then tossed her head to the side,  "That doesn't matter…for fuck's sake Dudley, If the scrawny prat was _my_ cousin I'd slap him around his head and knock those god-awful glasses off him."

"Yeah…well…my mother and father, they'd…"

"-You'd be doing 'em a favor, it must suck for them…having to take in an unstable boy…" She continued to glare at Harry, "Is it true, y'know, that you go to St. Brutus?"

Harry nodded briskly, the story that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had fed everyone was that Harry was quite frankly unstable – and had to go to St Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys.  It also meant that Harry had an absolute zero chance of making a friend in the neighborhood.

Her eyes narrowed, and she looked frighteningly like Aunt Petunia, "I bet you're jut a big bully, you know. Well, Dudley's not afraid of you!" She said sharply, and put her hands on her hips,  "Move you stupid ass!"

Harry flexed his hand once more, instinctively going for his wand from where he kept it in his back pocket. Dudley, however, seemed to sense this – and he screeched out abruptly and turned to face the girl, "PAME~E~LA! C'mon then! I…have to show you to my Mum, I completely forgot. She's been anxious to meet you."

Pamela continued to glare over Dudley's shoulder to Harry, before reluctantly turning and leading Dudley back to the living room where the hushed conversation of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia could be heard.

Harry followed, glaring at Pamela, but then he remembered his original plan – and started to break off into a run again, pushing past the pair as soon as they got off the staircase…he would have run straight out the door, too, except a voice called out;   
"Harry?! Harry where are you going?!"

He halted, not because he felt like responding to Aunt Petunia – but because it was an instinct, and he instantly regretted it.

As he turned, he saw everyone gathered around the fireplace, and they all staring at him. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Marv, Dudley and Pamela. All staring at him. Pamela, of course, looked ready to kill, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley looked nervous, but Marv was standing there nonchalantly.

"Ms. Figg." Harry said, glancing over to the door nervously – every second he wasted here, was another second that the Order of the Phoenix could be closer to looking for him.

"Ms. Figg?" Marv said brightly, obviously trying to strike up a conversation, "Who's that? One of your neighbors?"

The Dursley's didn't know the truth about Ms. Figg, and they all considered her a fairly respectable neighbor especially since she often took Harry off of their hands. Uncle Vernon composed himself, "Yes, she's an old friend of the family, used to take care of the boy when he was…too sick…to come on vacations and such with us."

'Too sick?' Harry scoffed at that, he had been unwillingly dumped off there every vacation and holiday without fail, and he had never been sick…he'd never had thought he'd be _wanting_ to go there.

"Oh-ho, what a charming young lad!" Marv said, breaking out into a smile that made his own face seem rather charming.  He looked a lot nicer then he had seemed about ten minutes ago when he had probably thought Harry unstable,"I could use more boys like you at my school…gah, nasty things those boys are…misbehaving deviants, every last one of 'em."

"Where do you teach?" Pamela asked in a sugarcoated voice, breaking her gaze from Harry and looking interested over at the now-very attractive Marv.

Marv smiled lightly, "Not a school where you'd like to meet a boy, darling." He stretched to himself, and continued, "I'm one of the head directors at St Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys."

Pamela's face was suddenly overswept with confusion, to tell the truth – the look suited her, but she stared at Harry. "But…but Harry **does** go to St. Brutus'…" 

As much as Harry would have liked to stop and watch the Durselys' trying to cover up their own lies – he definitely had to get over to Ms. Figg, and fast, "Pardon me," He said quickly, and before anyone could stop him, he had pushed his chair in and was running to and out the door, into the rain.

*

In less then a minute, Harry was standing in front of the mahogany door that belonged to Ms. Figg. He was dripping wet, of course, but he was more bothered about the fact that the Order could be coming, **_right now_**. He raised a hand to the brass knocker and brought it up and down violently several times, bouncing from foot to foot in nervousness.

"Keep your shorts on…" He could hear a voice say irritably from inside, and he could hear the meowing of cats as they moved out of the way for her, and he felt part of the weight lift off of his shoulders – at least she was home…

In a matter of moments, the door clicked open – and a narrow elderly face came peering through the crack. It was Ms. Figg, and her expression changed from annoyed to delighted at the sight of Harry, "Harry!" She exclaimed, "Do come in, we were just talking about you…"

"Ms. Figg," Harry found himself blurting out anxiously, "I've forgotten to write to the Order and I'm afraid they're going to come here and Hedwigs out and I can't and I don't want them to come here!!"

"I do believe that you are a bit late for that, Harry."" A slow and careful voice said from behind Ms. Figg as she struggled to unlock the door an amused looking Albus Dumbledore stepped up behind her. He was smiling beneath his great white beard and his eyes twinkling down at Harry, however, he looked considerably older and more tired then when Harry had last seen him.

"Professor!?" Harry explained, his mouth dropping over – the idea, of Dumbledore at Privet Drive was almost unthinkable, but there he was – in a blue cloak and matching hat, smiling at Harry. "What are you doing here?"

Dumbledore's mouth twitched into a smile, "I'm rather fond of her apple pies…"

Harry blushed lightly, slightly embarrassed again. He looked up at Dumbledore once more, then stared down at his trainers his cheeks turning redder, "They didn't send you here?"

"If by chance you are speaking of the Order, no they did not." Dumbledore said, his smile unwavering.

"But…they said…they said…they would…send somebody…" Harry said dimly, suddenly aware of how foolish it sounded. The Order were not as stupid as to go off to attack some Muggles because they believed they weren't treating Harry right, not without checking things out first… He felt…really…stupid all of a sudden.

"I don't know what the Order promised you," Dumbledore said patiently, his voice and tone careful, "But do not forget they have my dear Martha here, and I doubt they'll act harshly without speaking to her first."

Ms. Figg had just opened the door, and beamed with success up at Harry – then frowned at her name, as she pulled open the door and ushered the blushing Harry inside. "What? Oh yes, I've spoken to them several times about Harry, they're not worried at all."

Harry stood there, his cheeks turning redder as he concentrated hard on the cat that was snuggling happily up to his feet. He could feel his ears burning, and he touched one self-consciously, feeling all eyes on him – how _could_ he be so stupid? He was…so…so…stupid… He acted without thinking, acted on what he felt, not even thinking about it rationally – that was what ended up with Sirus dead…his own…stupidity.

To his humiliation, he felt warm tears rushed to his eyes and he concentrated even further on his trainers, his vision blurring behind his glasses.

"Harry, dear?" A voice said lightly, Mrs. Figgs' – not Dumbledore's. He didn't glance up, but she felt a warm hand on his shoulder stir him slightly into motion and into direction, and the voice continued – feather light. "Come now, you're soaking wet – let's dry you off."

*

Later that night, Harry was curled up slightly drier, on Ms. Figg's couch, one of her cats was in his lap and mewing happily…inside, in the kitchen he could hear the two talking chirply and he could catch glimpses of the conversation every now and then;

"How are things in Azkaban? Are the Death Eaters all still there?"

"Surprisingly, yes. I would have thought Voldermort would have rescued them by now."

"Could you _not_ say the name, Albus m'dear?"

"Certainly not, Martha. It is better to say the name – it decreases the fear of the thing."

"Yes, but, well – I'm not fond of saying or _hearing_ the name…"

Harry stared at the cat, scratching it between its ears thoughtfully. He wasn't wearing his glasses, as he had taken them off to wipe the tears from his eyes the first moment he'd been left in privacy.

He stared around the room silently, licking his lips to himself, still recalling that feeling inside of him – that foolishness…what was the word? Foolhardy. Reckless. Hasty….and it was because of this that people died, all because of his own idiocy – he sank down into the chair, his eyes tearing once more.

"Well then Martha, I must be going." Dumbledore said suddenly, and there was the sound of a chair scraping across the ground as Dumbledore stood up.

Harry didn't even bother to look, instead he concentrated on petting the cat in his lap as Dumbledore walked passed him towards the fireplace, "I had a lovely time Martha, and I'll be sure to see you soon." He then turned in Harry's direction, and his lips pursed as if he wanted to say something – but he shook his head and walked over to the fireplace.

Harry didn't see what happened next, but judging from the wooshing sound – he had just traveled by Floo Powder out of the room. 

The house seemed silent after that, and Harry found himself enjoying it. The Dursley's household was often quiet, but it was never _silent_ and even if it was quiet – they didn't have to physically say anything to make their messages about Harry heard…but here it was different. He didn't feel _alone._ He just felt….

"Harry m'dear?" A soft voice pressed from his side, and he looked up to see a blurry Ms. Figg standing over him. He fumbled for his glasses and slipped them on, and she instantly became clearer. She was looking at him with a sad expression, and gently she said, "Don't worry too much about it, even the most brilliant of wizards have their faults – yours is rather mild, compared to some."

It took a great deal, but Harry managed to not scream at her in frustration. Instead he looked at the cat, brushing its sooty brown fur to the side; "It is…my fault…that Sirus is dead."

There was a pause from her, and then very slowly she said; "Are you sure? I thought it was Bellatrix's Lestrange's fault."

"I mean…" Harry winced at the name – feeling a surge of anger run through him, He looked down at his fingers. "I got tricked there, it was my own stupidity – then, Sirus followed me and…" He sighed, and didn't finish the sentence.

"But Harry, you didn't…you didn't push Sirus, it's not-"

"It is my fault." Harry said slowly, cutting her off. He now felt somewhat angry at her, and he didn't quite understand why…He rested the cat he was holding onto the couch and he stood up. She was glancing at him nervously, as if expecting him to burst into tears any moment now, and he frowned; "Well, Good night then…."

With those words, he walked out of the door – back into the rain.

A/N: Sorry if that wasn't very good, I was going through writers block, so it sort of jumps all over the place…thing'sll get better around the 4th chapter…hopefully… -_-

Oh, thanks for the reviews ^.^ You're all so niiiiice, oh, and the reason it's different in the summary is that it was too long and ff.net cut it off.


	3. The Voice from Nowhere

When Harry first opened his eyes the next morning, heard the wind howling angrily outside of his window and the rain pattering loudly on the Dursley's sheet roof. A drop of water fell on his nose, and he remembered, too, that the Dursley's had yet to fix the slight leak over his bedroom.

He was thinking about this, and wondering what had happened the night before – when he suddenly realized there were muffled sort of yells coming through the wall into his ear. The sounds were making the slight throb in his head, no doubt from lack of sleep and the bad night he'd had, even worse…they were loud, angry yells, and Harry had to wonder how he didn't notice them first of all, and how he had slept through him.

He soon separated one of the voices, and he could tell that it was that of his Dudley, doing what he did best – putting on a show to get his way; "I WANT TO GO! I HAVE TO GO! I'M GOING! I'M GOING!"

The next voice to come through the wall was that of Aunt Petunia's, and her voice sounded strained, like she was on the verge of tears; "But Popkins! You simply can't go, not in this awful weather…"

"I WILL! I AM! I'M NOT FORFEITING A MATCH!"

To tell the truth, Harry was more surprised that Dudley had used the word 'forfeiting' properly then he was about the fight going on. He knew well enough that today was supposed to have been the day for Dudley's championship boxing match, after all, Dudley had been going around trouncing kids around the neighborhood all week for a sort of practice. However, with the weather as it was at the moment, it was obvious that the other Dursley's were having second thoughts on the matter…being that the competition was several miles away.  
  


"Dudley, be reasonable!" Uncle Vernon said, sound surprisingly cross…well, surprising since he was talking to Dudley. Harry, on the other hand, was quite used to the tone, having heard it daily himself. He would have expected it to be enough to silence Dudley, but the boy was used to having his way all his life, and so he continued:

"I WILL NOT BE REASONABLE! I AM GOING!"

Then, came Uncle Vernon's voice once more, bellowing and louder then it was been before, so it seemed to shake the little house. "YOU. ARE. NOT. GOING!"

Harry blinked in surprise, he had never heard Uncle Vernon take that tone with Dudley. In fact, the only thing the only person that Harry recalled Uncle Vernon using that tone with, was himself and it wasn't as if it was a tone he used regularly. It was his 'this-is-the-last-bloody-straw' sort of voice, and quite frankly, Harry would have pictured at him yelling at Aunt Petunia like this before he picture him yelling at Dudley, but here it was – happening.

Judging from the sudden silence in the next room, it was not only Harry that was surprised…he could almost envision the stunned Aunt Petunia and curiosity got the better of him.

He slowly tiptoed out of his room, making sure not to let the floorboard squeak as he walked from his own room to Dudley. When he reached the room, he took a quick glance in, pressing his cheek against the cool wall to stare through the crack in the door into Dudley's crowded room.

 Dudley was sitting on the bed, with Aunt Petunia hovering over him, her skin was pink, and she looked (as Harry suspected she would) like she was about to burst onto tears. Uncle Vernon's back was to Harry, but Harry could picture that angry face anyway. 

One thing Harry noticed was that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were both intently staring at Dudley. And Dudley had lowered his rather large head, and fat tears were sliding down his cheeks.

Harry blinked rapidly in surprise, not sure he'd seen the scene right. It didn't add up right to him, not at all. When Dudley wanted his way, he gave loud roaring fits, like Harry had just heard… but for him to hang his head and have tears running down his cheek, whilst he didn't make a sound wasn't normal, at least it wasn't normal for Dudley.

It seemed, well, it almost seemed like Dudley was…really crying.

All of a sudden, Uncle Vernon moved, and turned in the direction of the door – Harry closed the door quickly. He stood there for a moment, half expecting the door to bang open, and Uncle Vernon to be standing their angrily, ready to take out the rest of his rage onto Harry…but it didn't happen.

The silence in the room continued, and Harry decided he better not risk getting caught. After all, he had no idea what had happened the night before, and for all he knew, the Dursley's might not be, so friendly, with him anymore, and being caught outside the room eavesdropping was definitely something that would cause their anger to explode.

With one more casual glance to the door, Harry headed downstairs to the kitchen.

It would be, he decided, a nice change to have breakfast himself without being bothered by any of the Dursleys …and not have to put up with the sight of Dudley stuffing his face. Yes, this actually seemed like it might be the best breakfast of the summer.

Harry had already had his toast toasted when Uncle Vernon suddenly appeared in the room, his head was down, and he looked to be thinking deeply. Something, that, quite frankly astonished Harry again. All of a sudden though, Uncle Vernon looked up, and he looked surprised to see Harry…as if he couldn't believe he had the indignancy to go and eat breakfast by himself, however, he seemed to catch himself, and a forced look of calm came across his face.

"Boy," He said, nodding his head – he hesitated, and looked as if he was forcing himself to say something. Harry began buttering the piece of toast, wondering how long he might have to wait for Uncle Vernon to say something. Uncle Vernon cleared his throat, and said a quick; "Happybirthdayharry."

Harry began to choke as he laughed and snorted at once, and half succeeded in suffocating himself. After he was able to breathe again, he managed to give a hoarse, "Uh, thanks."

Uncle Vernon shifted on his spot, "Well, we, that is…I mean…we're going…Dudley's…competition today."

Oh, so Dudley had gotten his way again. No surprise there, not really anyway. Harry wondered if the tears had been real, or just a brilliant scheme to put everybody off guard with sensitive crying…and then he wondered if he was giving Dudley too much credit. "Ah."

"And, well, we were wondering…i….f…"

"If?"

"If…if you…if you wantedtocometothecompetitionandwatchdudleyoday."

It was a bad thing that Harry had just taken a rather large bite out of his toast, because he indeed began to choke in surprise, and sprayed little bits of toast over the Dursley's table as he struggled to breathe again; "What?!"

Uncle Vernon's cheeks turned a muddy sort of red, and Harry knew it took his last bit of pride to say again, slower and through clenched teeth; "Do you want to come to Dudley's match?"

Harry started to say no, after all, it was his birthday, and the last thing he wanted to do was to watch Dudley knock out some poor unsuspecting child while adults cheered. However, he realized that his appearance there might…unnerve Dudley slightly, and the temptation to be responsible for **and **to witness Dudley's loss was indeed a great birthday gift.

He started to say 'Yes.', picturing how Uncle Vernon's face would change, but then – he heard a voice – clear as a bell, and it said a firm, '**Say no.**'

Harry glanced up at Uncle Vernon, about to say something, but he saw Uncle Vernon glaring at him impatiently, obviously awaiting his answer and realization dimmed on him that that was not his Uncle's voice. He stared blankly, and said a surprised, "What?"

"Do you want-"

"Uh, wait um…" Harry stared blankly, and he opened his mouth to say yes – but he heard the voice again, clear in his head as if someone had whispered into his ear, '**Say no.**'. 

Harry glanced around, as if expecting to see someone hovering over him and speaking into his ear…however, nobody was there. Harry felt a slight chill, and he had a vague realization that there was magic at work at hand, and he faltered.

He didn't know whether it was good or not, perhaps if he said no – something bad would happen, however, maybe it was trying to keep him from something. He bit his lip lightly, and stared blankly at Uncle Vernon. 

"Well?"

"Uh…um…no. No thanks." 

Harry didn't quite know why he trusted this voice, perhaps it was because it down sound too harmless. It was gentle, and rather coaxing, and anyway, he'd rather sit at home and eat the fabulous birthday cakes he had found on his bed when he'd gotten home last night then watch Dudley fight.

Uncle Vernon looked surprised and slightly happy, but he composed and said, "Right then, if that's what you want. We'll be getting ready….we'll have to leave at noon to get their on time, and we'll be back around 10…so…you… might as well have this. It's from your Aunt and I."

He shoved an envelope on the table, turned on his heel, and half ran out of the kitchen. Harry was too caught up in his thoughts to notice it, and he sat down at the table – suddenly no longer hungry, he struggled to make sense of what just happen.

 A voice, had just given him advice, and he wasn't sure if it was positive or not, but he was a little unnerved by it. He wondered, for a moment, if he should go over and tell Ms. Figg about it, but the memory of his humiliation from the night before made him forget about that fairly quickly, and instead, he glanced at the envelope the Dursley's had given him.

He picked it up and opened it, inside was a birthday card…Harry stared blankly. It had a boy on the front wearing a birthday-hat, it looked like it was made for a five year old. Harry ignored the message on front, and opened the card – and some bills fell to the ground.

Harry stooped over and picked them up, they were money notes, and quite a lot too – in fact, he shuffled through them. They were about a 100 pounds worth!

He stared blankly, sure this was a dream, first of all – he had heard a mystery voice, Dudley had really cried, and now the Dursleys were…willingly giving him money? It didn't add up right, not at all. He pinched a bit of flab on his arm, and bit his lip, and felt pain to his surprise.

Harry stuffed the notes into his pocket, suddenly not hungry and began to clear the table.

~~*~~

Harry had a most agreeable birthday for the whole afternoon, the Dursley's actually left a little before noon and it gave Harry quite a little laugh to see them running for the car in the middle of the pouring rain. After that, he had spent the day reading his textbooks, eating magical candy and foods, and basically…being himself.

He was rather annoyed, truthfully, when the clock hit ten and he began to regret the return of the Dursley's…and generally, his mood being spoiled by the thought of them returning to their home.

However the clock past ten, and eleven, and soon it was eleven thirty – and the Dursley's still hadn't returned. Harry didn't quite know what to make of it, he wasn't sure if they had deserted him, or something had happened. Both were equally worrying.

Dumbledore had told him last year, that the only thing keeping Lord Voldermort from finishing Harry off while he wasn't at Hogworts for the summer, was a bit of old magic that only worked if he was living with Aunt Petunia. Unfortunately, if they moved into a new home or something bad happened, technically it meant that Harry no longer lived with them, and that would cancel the magic.

Soon Harry began to pace in the living room, and he kept glancing out the window. He half suspected to see either Lord Voldermort or the Dursley's coming up the walk, and he was listening hard for the sound of a car or magic, but instead, the only thing that he could hear were the loud claps of thunder that came quickly, and the only thing he could see were the flashes of blue lightening that lit up the sky every now and then.

Harry stood there for a while, all sorts of thoughts in his head but soon he saw, illuminated by a sudden flash of lightening, a car pulling up towards the Dursley's driveway…and he instantly relaxed.

Harry turned and headed back up the stairs, slightly disappointed for some reason and feeling a bit silly. It was the exact same thing that had happened last night at Ms. Figg's, he'd been acting unreasonable and a bit silly, jumping to conclusions and such and as he headed upstairs, he felt rather idiotic.

As he got into his room he heard the sound of a car door slamming loudly, a sign that Dudley had lost the match and was furious. And that meant that Harry better get out of sight soon before Dudley came up in a state, or else he just might become his punching bag once more. 

Harry ducked into his room, and sat down on his bed, awaiting the angry stomping…but the angry stomping never came. Instead, what he heard surprised him greatly, it was a voice calling out frantically, "Harry?! HARRY?! HARRY, ARE YOU HERE?!" 

Now you might expect that Harry would jump up, and half run to whoever was greeting him, but being that the voice was unknown and the worry he felt…he wasn't sure if he should. 

Although, according to what he'd heard the night before, the Death Eaters were all still in Azkaban, he wasn't sure what to make of anything after the voice in his head this morning. Could this be the person who had told him to say no? So they could come and destroy him with nobody being there to be in the way? It seemed so, especially since someone was now running through the Dursley's house calling for him when he did not recognize his or her voice. 

Harry reached into his back pocket, and slowly pulled out his wand. He had this sense of foreboding, as if something bad were about to happen – and so he gripped his wand very tightly and waited for the door to his room to be blown aside, and a Deatheater or something worse to be standing there.

He stood there waiting, as the sound of doors opening and closing came nearer, until it was Dudley's room next door and then, the person was outside of his own door. 

"Allohomara!" The voice said clearly, Harry recognized the spell. It was one used to unlock doors, and he heard the lock on his door spring open at the words. 

Then the door pulled open suddenly, and the light from the hallway lit up the dark room and flashed off of Harry's glasses, temporarily blinding him. All the same, he thrust his wand in the direction of the person, and yelled "EXPELLIRAMUS!"

There was a flash of red light, and then Harry saw to his delight a wand that was not his, fly into the air and fall onto his bed, well away from the owner.

Harry pointed his own wand at the figure in front of him…and struggled to focus. Standing before him was a young woman with a round face, short brown hair and brown eyes, and she looked completely and utterly panicked. "Harry, come on now!"

"Who are you?" Harry said steadily, not looking away from her, thinking she might make a sudden move and wanting to be ready for it.

"Harry! That's not impor-"

"Who. Are. You."

She hesitated, but then she lowered her voice, "_I'm with the Order._ I can't say more here, it's not safe, especially not now." She grabbed at his arm, and Harry flinched away at the sudden move. Her voice cracked with her desperation, "Harry! We've gotto go, **now**! Everything's going wrong, I've got to get you out of here!"

Harry wavered for a moment, wondering if she were lying, and if so – how she knew about the Order. And in that moment of hesitation she pushed past him and grabbed her wand from the bed, spinning around and looking around the room. "Harry, grab your things quickly, we have to go!"

"Why? What's going on? What's wrong?" Harry demanded, holding out his wand still – but it shook slightly as his hand wavered.

She turned to him from where she'd grabbed his broomstick from off of the bed, where he'd left it after cleaning it. Her face was pale, and her brown eyes were wide, and she said, in a quivering voice – four words that sent a chill up Harry's back:

"The Dursley's are dead."

_A/N: Oooh, sorry for the delay – I was working on my website a lot, and I had serious writers block, but I know what I want from here on, so the next chapters should come up quickly. Oh, and don't worry – I'm not Mary-Sueing the new character…oh, and please Review ^^_


	4. The Escapes from Azkaban

Harry Potter and the Four Lights

Chapter 4: The Escape from Azkaban

Harry did not know what to make of what the young witch had just said, and instead he merely stared at her – his wand still raised and pointed at her. "I don't believe you."

"Harry!" She cried out as she turned to him, her dark brown eyes were wide and her nostrils flared. She had the appearance of being in the utmost state of dismay, as she wailed in an unusually high pitched voice, "You can't say that, you've got to believe me!"

"Well, I don't." And Harry didn't. How dare this stranger barge into his house, act like she knew him, claimed his only living relatives were dead, and ordered him to come follow her and not expect some sort of argument, it was laughable really. "I won't come unless you tell me what's going on."

The woman faltered, but opened her mouth to speak when there was a sudden crack against the window. Harry's eyes followed the noise, and he saw a tawny colored owl beating on the window with it's beak, barely staying aloft in the heavy rain outside – the girl's eyes followed as well.

Harry nodded at the window, "Open it."

"But-"

"Open it."

She didn't look as if she wanted to, but she hurried over to the window and flung it open. Instantly the owl fluttered in, and rain flew in behind it. She closed the window down, and they both looked at the owl. Clutched in his claws was a rolled up newspaper, and Harry recognized it to be that of a Daily Prophet, the wizarding newspaper.

The owl flew over to Harry, and dropped the newspaper at his feet, before settling down on the top of Hedwig's cage, fluttering it's wings in an effort to dry them. The woman wrung her hands together nervously, but said in a slightly eager voice, "Open it, open it, it might have some news on the situation…I only know a bit."

Harry, without letting down his guard, picked up the newspaper and unfurled it, and instantly was chilled for in bold letters, the headline of the front page read;

"MASSIVE ESCAPE FROM AZKABAN"

Harry, forgetting about the girl, immediately began to read the rest of the article, his gaze dancing from side to side as he read faster then he ever had in his life.

_'As the sun sets on the island of Azkaban last night, little did we realize that it would never rise on a tranquil Azkaban ever again. According to sources here at the Prophet,  At an estimated 11-o-clock this evening, the Dementors that guard Azkaban disappeared and in that time over a third of the prisoners in Azkaban escaped, including that of the recently captured Deatheaters…'_

They went on to list the names of the prisoners, and the names went on for quite a while with a picture of a scowling wizard of witch on the side of them, with warnings for what to do if you spotted any of them…Harry stared and stared at the paper, before looking up at the anxious girl in front of him, "You…you…knew about this?"

"What's it say?" She demanded, reaching for the paper. 

"There's, there's an escape at Azkaban…"

"I know **_that_**_!" _She said in an agitated voice, "Did they not have any other information besides that?"

Harry stared at the paper, and reread the entire article. "No," He said after a short deal, "There's nothing else, it just says there's been a breakout…"

"Did the Ministry say anything?"

"No comment." Harry said, reading from the paper and glancing up at her, "But, how did you know about…"

"Like I said, Dumbledore sent me!"  Harry stared at her for a long moment, not knowing what to believe. She grabbed at his arm frantically, "Look, Harry, we _don't have time for this…we've got to get you **OUT OF HERE!**'_

He winced at her voice, it didn't sound like one that was used to yelling and as a result it was strained and harsh against his ears, but for some reason he was compelled to believe her. After all, if she said Dumbledore had sent her…then all of a sudden he blinked, "What? Does this have to do with the Dursleys?"

She nodded as she began to flutter around the room, looking around for something when she came upon his trunk she threw it onto the bed and flung it open, and immediately began stuffing whatever she could find into it. "C'mon Harry, get a few things!"

"No…" Harry said slowly, surprising even himself and from her flared nostrils and wider eyes, he had surprised her as well. He balled up one of his hands into a fist, "Tell me what happened to the Dursleys or I won't go."

"Bloody hell, Harry!  Isn't it obvious?! They found out who they are!" 

"Who did?"

"The-the DEATHEATERS!" She sputtered, staring at him incredulously, "Are you bloody daft? COME ALONG!"

Even if Harry hadn't wanted to, he didn't really have a choice as she grabbed his arm, her pointed nails digging slightly into his skin as she began to drag him down the stairs with one hand and his trunk in the others. She was pulling so hard that she was almost pulling his arm out of his socket, and he found he was stumbling as he struggled to keep up with her and pull his arm out of her grip at the same time.

Although he fought her, it was only a matter of time before she had dragged him down the stairs and was pulling him out of the door into the rain towards a red sports car. She hissed a garbled word under her breath and the door to the car flew open without a touch, and then for the first time she turned and faced Harry dead on.

"In the car," She whispered, her breath short and her voice quick and barely audible against the heavily falling rain, "You must lay down and get under the cloak and say _nothing_."

  
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but she had smacked her hand across it and was already shoving him bodily from under the Dursley's porch and into the cold rain – steering him blindly into the direction of where he had last seen the car in a flash of lightening. He grappled with her hands as she shoved him into the backseat, but there was a sudden loud crack that wasn't accompanied by a flash of lightening, and he fell silent. 

She stiffened, as they both recognized the crack for what it was – not from thundering, but by a wizard or witch magically appearing. In a swift movement, Harry found himself being covered by a cloak, and before it covered his eyes, he saw his body disappearing and recognized his own invisibility cloak. 

He lay rigid, as he heard the girl say in a chirpy voice, and he saw her hesitate over the car, "Allo there, mate!"

There was a low growl, followed by a familiar low voice muttering, "You there," And then a word that sounded strangely like 'muggle', "Do you know where the… 'Dursleys' live?"

"Dursleys?" She repeated slowly, and then in a bright voice she said, "Oh yeah, the Dursley's they live on the next street I think…but it's a bit late for them, they're probably sleep already."

"And you…you aren't." Harry could hear the grass squishing beneath what sounded like boots, as the other person muttered in a whispery soft voice "What, pray tell, are you doing out in such a hurry at this time."

Harry didn't even dare to breathe, as he saw a cloaked figure moving next to the woman in the reflection of the window, but she seemed completely calm. He could practically see the smile on her face as she said chirply, "Oh, I've got a late flight, you know, airplane rides, and I'm already late…" She laughed brightly, as if it was a funny joke. "…so I've really got to get out of here, sorry. I would show you the house myself, but _you know."_

There seemed to be some sort of more movement communication then, because in an instant the girl had half jumped into the car, and was speeding away and Harry didn't hear a voice hiss out 'Advadra Kedavra'. Instead he looked up just in time to see the hollow face of Lucius Malfoy above the window, glaring at the woman in the car. 

~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~

They drove for quite some time, Harry not daring to move as part of him felt as Lucius Malfoy was driving along side behind him, with one of the Weasley Twins extendable ears. And the other part of him was still playing over the matter of the Dursley's in his mind, and it was actually her who broke the silence with a long sigh of relief several minutes, maybe even an hour, later, "Lucky that was!"

"Yeah." Harry muttered, stiffly, starting to pull the cloak off of himself since it was getting rather sticky there.

"Hey, no! Keep it on!" She said sharply, glaring back at the bit of him that was suddenly visible through the rearview mirror.

Harry kept it on, but she kept on talking – more to herself than Harry, since he wasn't putting up much of a conversation as he lay sweating and invisible beneath the cloak. It was a bit after her talking that Harry cut in, and muttered – in a low voice – "What happened to the Dursleys?"

The silence that came after contrasted with her normal eager talking, but after a bit she said in an uncertain voice, "Well, the, I don't know…what they did…but, I think they thought you were with them." 

"Who?"

"The Deatheaters…the Deatheaters had escaped, and they thought that you were with the Dursleys, and they…" She stared at the road for a while, her eyes suddenly dark in the mirror, but then in the same bright voice she said to Lucius Malfoy, she said chirply in a complete change of topic "Well, Harry, I hear you're a big fan of Qui-"

"-But I thought I was _safe_ from Voldemort on the holidays…" Harry muttered, more to himself then to her.

She winced visibly at the name, but said in an unsure voice, "Dumbledore…well, Dumbledore explained but…well, I was in a hurry and didn't get most of it. I think they counteracted the spell."

"But…Dumbledore said tha-"  

"-Look, Harry, I don't really know, but it's no sense worrying about it now. Dumbledore will give us the sign, and then we'll go to…London."

"Right." Harry muttered, flexing his hands under the cloak. He understood what she meant by 'London', she meant 12 Grimauld Palace, the location of the Order of the Phoenix; a secret organization that were plotting against Voldemort. He tilted his head up so he got a better view of the sky through the window; it was hard to make out anything from the way the rain was pattering against the window and he found himself blinking for longer and longer extended periods, before he finally closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he found he was no longer in the back seat of the car, instead he was in a large dark room, and the only light he could see was flickering candle in the corner. He felt his mouth twist into a wry smile that wasn't his own, as a pale and small figure stood before him shivering the sweat on their face gleaming in the candlelight. 

In his ears, his own voice was harsh and jagged, "So, you are the Malfoy boy…"

Draco Malfoy, gave him a curt nervous nod and Harry found himself amused at the sight. The Malfoy boy was quite worthless, nowhere near as helpful as his father, but would do well in his plans…yes, in fact, his information had already proved helpful.

"Your father is out now, did you know…" Harry muttered in that cool jagged voice.

Malfoy nodded once more, looking as if his knees would buckle at any moment.

"And, you no doubt know, that I require you for my plans."

"Y-yes, I know." 

Suddenly Harry felt a hot surge of anger, how dare that impudent child have the audacity to refer to him like that, as if he were one of his school mates. Harry pulled out his wand, and pointed it squarely at Malfoy, who let out a little gasp and took a step back.  "What. Did. You. Call. Me?"

"N…noth-oh!" Malfoy's face looked horrified with recognition, "I'm sorry, M-m-m" He didn't look as if he wanted to say it, and Harry felt his lip curve into a sneer. His father wouldn't mind the boy's death all too much, he could barely tolerate him – cowardly thing. "MASTER!" Draco suddenly shrieked out, his voice hitting a sharp on the word and cracking.

The sound so amused Harry that he found himself laughing, almost hysterically and his voice echoed in the room – loud and harsh, but it began to change to his average laughter, and it filled Harry's ears and head. However, it was suddenly interrupted by the woman's voice, as she snapped, "Harry, what's so funny?"

As immediate as the laughter had come, it disappeared almost instantly – leaving Harry feeling somewhat empty inside and rather odd.

"Well, you gonna tell me or not?" The woman said irritably, and as she turned to face him he saw she had bags under her eyes that had not been there when he fell asleep.  His eyes instinctively flew to the window, where the sky was a muddled sort of white gray of a day where rain had just, or was just about to fall. 

"It's stopped raining." He muttered, the sight of the pale white yet still alarmingly bright sky hurting his eyes.

"Yeah, around 4." She muttered, wiping at her eyes tiredly.

"Have you gone to sleep…?"

"Don't be daft, I can't." She said shortly, "I have to lookout."

"Oh." Harry said, "Are we going to…London…now?"

"Nope." She said brightly, gassing the car and shooting past a family in a Ford to the right of them. "Dumbleodre's not sent the okay yet," Then she added in a thoughtful voice, "Another reason to stay awake."

"So, where…are we going?"

"My place," She said, as she threw back a bottle of pills at him. "We're not that far away, really. You'll be able to eat something there, open that for me will you?"

Harry glanced at the label, which read 'Stay Awake Pills (Includes the Antidote to Sleeping Draughts)', and then stared up at the lady. "You've been taking these?"

"Mmmmmmm, just open them." She muttered, sinking down into the seat and blinking tiredly.

Harry obliged and poured the bright pink pills into his hand, she reached back blindly and grabbed the handful and stuffed into the entire handful into her mouth causing Harry to stare at her. "Is that…that safe?"

"Dunno," She said chirpily, and then sat up suddenly, and peered over the steering wheel into the mid-day traffic, "Probably not, but they work quicker if you take more…I'll probably sleep for days when I finally get to sleep." 

Harry blinked, slightly taken aback, and decided it would be a good place to shut up. He stared at her for a long time, she was really a chubby girl with a round face – she couldn't be older then 25, but had a tired look in her brown eyes – probably because she hadn't appeared to have slept at all the night. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and had the appearance of a Muggle but he remembered seeing her pulling out her wand earlier that day, "Who are you?"

"Huh?" She said, glancing back at him and taking her eyes off the road, "You mean I haven't told you?"

"Yeah, uh, who are you?"

"Artemis Warde." She said, her eyes going back to the road, "I'm a friend of Nymph and Pixie."

"Uh…Nymph and Pixie?"

"Oh, _you know_, Tonks, and Pixin."

Harry only recognized one of those names, and that was Tonks – she had been one of the members of the Order that Harry had met a year ago now. She had been by far one of Harry's favorites, mostly because of her cheerful exterior and partly because he respected her since she was an Auror, and that was the only thing he wanted to do after leaving Hogworts.

"They're both members of _you know what_!" Artemis said, glancing back at Harry in surprise, "Don't tell me you don't know them!"

"I…I know Tonks…" Harry said thoughtfully, "But I've never heard of 'Pixin'."

"But!" Then she trailed off, and leaned back into the seat relaxing again "Oh, right then, she's just joined with me – of course you haven't heard of her yet." 

Harry shifted under the cloak, choosing not to respond and pressed his cheek into the leather exterior of the car, thinking to himself silently, and he stayed quiet for quite a long time. In fact, the next time they spoke, it was several hours later, and after she had slowed down to a stop.

He watched Artemis as she stretched, thrusting her arms up behind her head and she smiled back at Harry, "Well then, we're here."

A/N: I swear to fucking god, I won't Mary-Sue. She's not ending up with Harry/Ron/Draco, or something like that, and pleeeeeeeease review. The more reviews I get, the better chance of me having a next chapter ^^;;;


End file.
